Mrs Upples and the Lawnmower
by Lowlands Girl
Summary: [Pre DH] Mrs Upples has got a new lawnmower! Unfortunately, it rather has its own ideas...


**Mrs Upples and the Lawnmower**  
_by_ The Eighth Weasley

_I._

Mrs Upples of Chethamshire was so excited about her new lawnmower. The man in the second-hand hardware store had told her to be a little cautious about it, because it sometimes did funny things --

"Almost like it decides it's not going to go over that patch of grass, that it likes it where it is," he'd said bemusedly. "Scared my wife half to death when it wouldn't mow around the pansies, she tested it out, you see..."

-- but on the whole, it was a good deal. Twenty quid for a mostly-new lawnmower, promised to be light enough for even her old bones to manage. Electric, too, one of those brand-new-fangled ideas.

She reached up for the large extension cord in the potting shed, brushed some spiderwebs off it, and went to plug the lawnmower into the back wall of the house.

Some idiot left it on, she realised angrily as it spluttered into life, startling her so that she let out a little yelp.

She leaned over and switched it off. The engine died with a cough and a hiccup. It sounded almost disconsolate.

"Poor baby," she murmured, patting the black plastic handle. "We'll feed you some grass in a minute."

She double-checked that the lawn was free of hoses and cat toys -- and cats -- wrapped the electrical cord around her shoulder, and pushed the large red button on the side to turn it on.

With an excited _Wheeee!_ the lawnmower roared to life. It was so easy to navigate! It turned at the lightest touch, munching up the grass and spitting it out the side. In a far shorter time than she'd expected, Mrs Upples found herself facing a beautifully cropped lawn.

So she put it away in the potting shed and locked the padlock behind her, not realising what she'd just begun.

_II._

Lawnmowers are tricky things to bring to life, as Otto Bagman could attest, having brought this one to life quite recently. But he'd not had much success getting it to mow the lawn by itself, and in any case, he'd had the idea that perhaps it wasn't so smart to have a self-propelled lawnmower in a mostly-Muggle neighborhood. So, he'd sold it to a local hardware store, explaining (rather shiftily) that while it _did_ work, it wasn't always so happy, and, well, here it was and how much could he get for it?

The shopkeeper, frowning distrustfully, had given Otto some random number of Muggle coins, which Otto promptly used to buy liquor. Tough times these days, he told himself, what with Victoria wanting a new broom, and Mrs Bagman complaining that Otto was never home often enough, and--

He passed out, rather drunkenly, on a park bench.

_III._

"I tell you, it's just going by itself! Here, I'll put the phone by the window... No, that's not the telly, officer, that's the lawnmower! I've never seen anything like it-- AAAAGGGHH!"

With a yell of horror Mrs Upples threw herself out of the way as the lawnmower came hurtling towards the wall of the house and the window at which Mrs Upples stood, trying to convince the local constabulary that her lawnmower had gone berserk, and not having much success. Just at the last minute, however, the lawnmower turned aside and headed straight for its own cord, which it proceeded to chew on in a most disturbing manner.

Mrs Upples fainted.

"Ma'am? Ma'am!" squawked the phone. "We'll send someone 'round," said the voice, followed by a low mutter of, "Crazy people, can't even make up good tales anymore."

_IV._

Once everyone had calmed down with a cup of tea -- the lawnmower hadn't expressed a preference as to milk or sugar, so it was given both -- Mrs Upples explained how she'd bought the lawnmower from the handyman, who then, when he'd been brought in, said that he'd bought it from a funny-looking man with a rather odd hat and wearing galoshes.

The constable sighed, thanked the handyman, gave Mrs Upples another cup of tea, fined the lawnmower for Making a Public Nuisance, and went home for a stiff brandy.

The newspapers had a field day with it: _Lawnmower Terrorizes Neighborhood!_ ran one sensational headline, while others more tamely said: _Mysterious Lawnmower Startles Owner_ and ran columns on _How to Pick Your Lawnmower Safely_ with advice to make sure that it didn't run by itself.

Luckily for the constabulary, the next day a man wearing a rather odd hat and galoshes was picked up for public drunkenness, and, when questioned about a lawnmower, said, "Yes, I sold it, got some drinks for it. Have a fag, mate?"

"No thanks," said the officer, patting his pocket. "I'm fine."

"Just thought I'd offer," muttered the man, who the Muggles didn't know was a wizard.

They took his name -- Batto Ogman, he said -- and tossed him in jail until they could figure out what sort of crime he'd committed, and more importantly, how to convict him of it without making complete fools out of themselves.

_V._

Arthur Weasley, who regularly read the dailies of a less respectable nature, saw the name "Batto Ogman," and groaned.

Just as his groaning reached its climax, Ludo Bagman came sprinting through the door to Arthur's closet -- sorry, _office_ -- waving the same paper around and saying, "Arthur, you've got to help, he's just having a difficult time right now -- wife -- kids --"

Arthur sighed, let his groan dissolve, and fumbled in his desk drawer for the appropriate papers.

"Oh, thanks, mate," said Ludo with a dramatic show of relief. "I'll give you anything you want, just name it --"

As Arthur signed his name on the extremely useful Form of Explanation that said that the incident had been fully explained to his satisfaction and there would be no charges needed, and that all that was needed was a quick round of the Obliviators to the appropriate neighborhood, he paused.

"When's the next World Cup?" Arthur asked brightly.

_VI._

Mrs Upples sat at her window, drinking a cup of tea and wondering if she ought to get a lawnmower. There was that nice boy who came 'round every few weeks to trim it and weed the flowerbeds, but he'd gone off to university just recently, and Mrs Upples rather thought it would be good for her figure, too, if she took some fresh air every day.

Then again, she thought, looking out at her lawn, a funny disturbance rumbling distantly in a forgotten memory, perhaps she ought to just replace the lawn -- what about one of those Japanese stone gardens?


End file.
